Stark Naked
by lovecrumb
Summary: College AU: After being honourably discharged from the army, Steve decides to leave his old life behind and pursue what was once a distant dream: art school. Things become complicated for Steve as soon as he lays his eyes on Tony, who just happens to be the nude model in drawing 101.
1. Chapter 1

To all the people who are following my other Steve/Tony story, no need to worry, new chapters are in the works!  
This idea popped into my head as I was falling asleep last night (I like to think of naked men around this time), and it just wouldn't leave me alone today.  
I had a blast writing this first chapter, especially since I like to torture the subjects of my stories (something unsettling I've learned about myself in the process of writing fanfiction). Not to mention I majored in studio art for two years before switching to environmental studies, so it was a comfortable and familiar setting for me to write.  
This story will be shorter than my others, probably about 5 chapters at most! Enjoy and please leave feedback!  
Apologies, as always, for all my work is un-beta'd and all mistakes are my own.

* * *

Steve set a fresh piece of paper on his drawing easel and nervously eyed the man standing casually in a bathrobe across the room from him.

Steve knew what he was getting himself into when he had finally chosen to attend art school. He knew that he would be a few years older than his classmates, and that despite the age gap, they would likely have more practical experience than him in many areas. Steve was well aware that his drawing labs would have him eventually sketching the nude human form, and he had originally anticipated these lessons with great enthusiasm. He had drawn the human figure many times, of course, sometimes taking his small sketchbook with him to the park, and drawing the scenes and people around him. But before now, he had never been given the opportunity or the means to draw the natural human figure in an artistic learning environment. It was such an elemental part of the drawing experience, and he had always felt like he would never fully be able to bring his work to life without truly studying and understanding the human form. Yet as he sat nervously on the bench attached to his easel, the charcoal he was fiddling with rubbing off onto his sweaty hands, he couldn't quell the nerves building inside of him.

His classmates were, for the most part, talking boisterously around him, but he was more focused on the man who would shortly be modeling for them. The man in question, dark-haired and roguishly handsome, leaned against the wall with an ease to him that Steve just couldn't comprehend. If he was nervous about drawing another person naked, he was fairly certain he would have a very real, very intense panic attack if he was baring it all to such a keen and observing audience.

The man was talking animatedly to his professor, the two of them chatting without paying any attention to the students busying themselves in front of them.

Steve took a few calming breaths and all to soon, his professor, Virginia Potts, was calling the class to attention.

"Are we all set up? Good. Charcoal or conte only please. No pencils to sketch first, I want this to be an organic experience. We will start off with a few thirty second poses where you will only need to sketch the general shape and contours of the form, and then we will move on to do several five minute poses before we take a break." She turned to the model, "does that sound alright to you?"

The man rubbed his hands together excitedly and walked up onto the platform, undoing his robe, "let's get this show on the road."

She nodded and turned back to the class, "Divide your sketch sheets into four sections, one for each 30 second pose. I'll ring a small bell for the model to change poses so we can all stay on the same page. Any last questions?" There was a quiet murmur around the class as everyone shook their heads. She looked back at the model, "Do you?"

He cleared his throat, "I'd just like to extend my gratitude to whoever thought to set up the space heater." He grinned as there was a peal of laughter around the class, "It might be warm outside," he gestured towards the opened windows, where a steady breeze was passing through, "but you guys don't have the luxury of sitting around with all your nether regions exposed to the elements." He gave a wink to no one in particular as more laughter was shared among the students.

And before Steve could even take another breath, the man was taking off his robe, baring dark, tanned skin, and handing the shed garment casually to Professor Potts.

Steve heard a small snap. For a fleeting second, he thought it might have been his brain, but then he looked down to his hands, where his charcoal was quickly being reduced to powder. He hurriedly brushed his blackened hands off on a cloth and picked up his conte instead, relying on the heavier, more solid material to keep under his shaking hands. He looked back up towards the platform and saw, with a bit of alarm, that the man was already posing, and his classmates were quickly sketching away.

He had barely drawn more than a line on his paper before he heard a small chime and then the man was changing his position, now standing face-on toward Steve. And much to Steve's chagrin, he found himself unable to look away from the model's "nether regions" as he had called it.

Well, there it was.

Not to much of a shock there, really.

The man had a soft-looking diamond of dark pubic hair that rested elegantly (was that possible?) over his pelvic area, and that tapered into a smooth line by the time it reached his belly button. His penis rested between firm thighs that were also coated in soft-looking hair that looked like it would be nice to run his hands over. Steve had a moment to try and process _that _alarming thought before he heard the bell sound again. His sketching paper now held two pathetic wobbly lines that resembled absolutely nothing. He steeled himself to focus on his third attempt. But then he looked up and saw that the model now had his backside facing Steve and he felt his mind go stupidly blank.

That was..._wow._

That was something. A real nice something.

A nice and firm something.

Probably the nicest-looking ass Steve had ever laid his eyes on.. It was covered in a light sheen of hair that didn't at all hide the lovely sculpted quality of the flesh underneath.

_Ding._

_Son of a-_

The model was turning _again, _and Steve just couldn't stop staring goddammit! He wiped the back of his hand over his forehead which suddenly felt entirely too sweaty, and tried to focus on the paper and conte in his hand in front of him. Except that he _couldn't_ because the whole point of this was to observe the model and-

_Ding._

His classmates were all dismounting their sketches and placing them on the tables that lined the classroom, where the teacher would collect and grade them. Steve awkwardly stayed sitting because he absolutely refused to hand in his stupid piece of sketch paper with it's stupid _four _lines. He furtively tucked his pathetic attempt behind his pad of paper and tried to calm himself for the next twenty minutes of sketching.

And four, five-minute sketches later, Steve was breathing a shaking sigh of relief as he looked through his work. He had managed to produce one decent looking sketch to show during the class critique in a few moments, but he knew he wasn't out of the water yet.

He shuffled up to the wall, where his classmates were pining their drawings for everyone to see. He felt slightly less ashamed of his attempt when he saw that many others had also struggled to draw the human figure in such a quick period of time. He glanced quickly down at his drawing, wondering if he should bring up a different one; his choice was certainly the most interesting to look at out of his four sketches, this one having more exaggerated, curved lines to it. The drawing was a three-quarter view of the backside of the model, with one arm extended and resting over his head. Steve shook off his indecision and displayed his work among everyone else's, standing back in the small crowd of students so they could discuss and critique the work in front of them.

Much to his dismay, he saw the model standing next to his professor, intently eyeing all the interpretations of his body.

Miss Potts spoke, "Well done, everyone. This was to act as a warm up to this unit of study. I wanted to see what you would create when given minimal instructions, and I'm quite pleased with the results I see in front of me. For the most part, the next few weeks of your drawing labs will have a slightly different approach, where we will be drawing the model in one pose for an extended period of time, and I'll make sure to walk around the class and help everyone with their drawings. For this critique, I'd like us to observe the unique interpretations done by your classmates. It's not necessary to have a unique or stylistic approach to drawing the human figure so early on in your learning, but it's something I will encourage for the final assignment in this unit. Who would like to start off the critique?"

Steve usually had no problem including his feedback into the class critique, but he kept quiet this time, perfectly content to listen to everyone else's opinions for the time being. After several minutes of discussion, a classmate (he couldn't be sure, but he thought her name was Natasha) pointed out his drawing, "I like the almost androgynous feel to it. I mean, there's an obvious musculature that initially would seem to represent a more masculine form, but it's been combined with these broad, thick curving lines that could represent a more shapely figure. It's an interesting interpretation, considering the model is quite lean and defined."

Steve worriedly looked over at the man, hoping he hadn't taken offense to Steve's representation, but the man only looked relaxed and curious, one eyebrow slightly raised.

After another ten minutes of discussion, they returned to their easels . There was a stool set up on the platform with a light sheet draped over it. They would be drawing the model's sitting form, focusing on the play of light and shadow that contoured the body and reflected onto the draping material. The man sat facing him, his hands on his knees, which were spread almost shamelessly open for Steve to get an eyeful. He quickly decided to exaggerate the lighting in the room and make the model's pelvic area mostly in shadow. He didn't think he would be able to get anything productive done if he had done otherwise.

The twenty minutes passed surprisingly quickly, and he felt much more relaxed at the end of class. His drawing had turned out fairly well, all things considered, although it was quite obvious that Steve had largely ignored a certain area of the model in favour of the rest of him. As the class cleaned up and started to stack their easels in the back of the room, Steve noticed that the man was now pacing slowly in front of their earlier drawings on the wall, taking in their work close-up. His classmates were beginning to dismount their drawings from the wall, several of them striking up conversation with the model. Steve, of course, couldn't help but to overhear.

One of his male classmates asked, "What made you take up this kind of modeling? I hear the money's good."

He heard a rich chuckle from the other man, "Nah, I'm doing this pro-bono. I'm a friend of your prof's and I kind of like to think of myself as a philanthropist of sorts. Also, it was on my bucket list."

His classmate laughed, and the two of them began to speak in hushed tones. Steve suspected they were talking about the professor, of whom many of the boys had crushes on.

He approached the critique wall to retrieve his drawing, and saw Natasha yanking her classmate away from the model, "Stop flirting, Clint. You suck at it."

"I wasn't flirting!" he retorted, but he let himself be dragged away regardless, giving a sorrowful shrug in the model's direction.

Steve was taking the second pin out of the wall when he felt a warmth brush his arm. He looked over and saw the model standing right next to him, invading his personal space, and causing Steve's face to turn what was probably a violent shade of red. He cleared his throat, but the other man spoke first, "I think this was my favourite of the day. You made my ass look amazing."

Steve wanted to say that the man didn't need a drawing to make his ass look great, but instead all that came out was something that sounded like, "buhhwhaaa...?"

The man gave him a charming grin that had Steve's insides twisting even further, and he held his hand out to Steve, "The name's Tony. More formal introductions probably would've been nice before I got naked in front of you, but I can't say it's all that different from real life."

Steve could barely absorb the words. He was proud of himself for being able to have the coherency to say his one-syllable name to the other man and coordinate the hand-shake, "Steve."

Tony held his hand for a moment longer than was necessary, "That's quite the grip you have on you." He slowly and obviously looked Steve up and down, and Steve was sure his face was now a colour that had never been seen on a human. Tony spoke again, "You ever thought about modeling, Steve?"

He shook his head, staring stupidly at Tony.

"Well you definitely should. The world's missing out."

Steve looked bashfully down at his drawing, which he was crumpling slightly in his hands. Tony spoke up again, "What made you go to art school?"

Steve looked up at that. Tony seemed genuinely interested. He rubbed a hand behind his neck, "I never really thought I would have the chance to do it. I was-," his eye's flicked briefly to Tony's then away again, "I was in the army for a while. When I was discharged, I was given the opportunity to attend college and I decided on here."

Tony nodded, "I thought you looked a bit different from everyone."

Steve was puzzled, "how do you mean?"

"You look older. More worldly. Wizened."

Steve gave a small chuckle, "I guess that's one way to put it."

"Hey, um," Tony was biting his lip and Steve couldn't look away, "Would you be willing to part with this?" Tony was looking down at Steve's drawing. "It's just, well, I like it you see, and I don't really have anything in the way of art around my apartment. I guess it would be a bit egotistical of me to frame a drawing of me in all my naked glory, but I don't really care."

Steve was already pushing the drawing into Tony's hands, "It's all yours."

"Thank you!" Tony clapped him on the shoulder and stared down at the drawing, his eyes lighting up, before he was looking happily back up at Steve, and Steve could only smile in return.

His professor was suddenly there, her arm linking around Tony's, "Sorry to interrupt you two. Tony? We need to leave and get you dressed ASAP to make those reservations."

Tony's eyes widened, "And yet again, I completely forgot. Thanks Pepper, I'll follow you out."

He turned back to Steve, "Thanks again, Steve. I'll be seeing you next week." He gave a salut and started to walk away.

It was only then that Steve realized he was supposed to hand in the drawing he had given Tony. Oh well.

"And Steve?"

He looked back up, hopeful.

"You have some black smudges all over your forehead and neck. Just thought you might want to know before you go to your next class." He gave Steve a knowing wink, and just like that, Tony was gone, and Steve was left standing alone in the quiet classroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Ah, all the panicked comments I got on this site and asking if I could please write more. Oh you guys haha  
I did say in the beginning notes that it would be a chaptered fic- probably about five chapters.

And Bettany building- because JARVIS, and his holograms, and Paul Bettany's voice, eh, eh? Do you see my cleverness?

I KID.

Again, all errors are my own, for this is un-beta'd and written in haste to calm your panicked minds.

* * *

Steve had been replaying the day he met Tony over and over in his mind for the entire weekend. It was now sunday night, and he felt his nerves waging war with his stomach at the prospect of seeing Tony again tomorrow. Their first figure drawing lesson had only taken place during the last hour of their three-hour lab. Steve had no idea how he was going to make it through an entire three hours of naked Tony.

He had been thinking of how Tony really _had_ been flirting with him, the way he had let his eyes roam over Steve's body, how he had invaded Steve's personal space and laced their conversation with suggestive comments.

But Steve knew he shouldn't get his hopes up. Tony might like the way Steve looked, but he had no idea the emotional mess he was on the inside. Just a glimpse into his mind, and Tony would be running for the high hills to never look back. And Steve would be kidding himself if he thought he could muster up the courage to actually ask Tony on a date. War-zones, Steve could handle. Dating ridiculously good-looking people, he could not.

And on top of that, Steve didn't know what the relationship was between Tony and Miss Potts. The way she had curled her arm almost possessively around Tony's made Steve think that the two of them were more than just friends. The fact that they were comfortable enough with each other for Tony to be naked, spoke for itself.

And the last thing Steve wanted was to interfere with the love life of a professor who could make or break his future in art school. Not to mention, he would never want to be _that guy._

He went to sleep very late that night, dreaming of naked, lithe bodies and mischievous dark grins.

Steve spent an inordinate amount of time getting ready Monday morning, changing between a blue polo and a plaid work shirt more times than he would like to admit. He combed back his hair into complete submission and rubbed the tired lines out of his face, dabbing a hint of cologne on his neck for good measure. He felt like a hopeless idiot, but he knew he would feel even more self conscious around Tony if he didn't make any effort at all to look decent, especially considering the last time they saw each other, Steve had been completely covered with charcoal smudges. Tony could probably wear a paper bag and make it look amazing, but Steve wasn't going to take any chances if he could control it.

As Steve walked nervously into his drawing class, he saw that something was off. An older, more shapely woman dressed in a bathrobe was leaning against the small platform, watching as his classmates trickled through the doorway and began to set up their easels. He set down his messenger bag against the wall underneath his jacket (it had been raining outside) and ambled up the narrow stairs to the loft that held their portfolio's in narrow cubbies. He leaned his head against the wood, feeling like he had just been stood up for a date, embarrassed and sad. He supposed it made sense. Both the female and male forms had to be studied to understand anatomy. His classmates were probably relieved to have a shapely female model to draw today, as women, generally speaking, were easier and more interesting to draw than men. Instead of worrying about every small groove and muscle in the figure, they could focus instead on the _art_ of the human form, rather than a more technical, anatomical drawing.

Steve sighed, gathering a wad of sketching paper and then heading over to the pile of easels, choosing one and carrying it easily across the room with one hand, his other holding his supplies. A very petite girl in his class had a brace around her left wrist and he helped her bring her easel over to where he was sitting, offering her his prime spot right in front of the platform. He was a tall guy after all, and he did't want to obstruct anyone's view. Unfortunately, this left him sitting next to the student named "Clint," who spent the majority of class drawing the model's breasts and pelvis, as though she had no limbs (and had gone up a couple of cup sizes).

The lesson went by quickly, at least. Steve let himself get absorbed into his work, and he found himself relaxing and enjoying the quiet sounds of sketching around the classroom. The last hour of the lab had them using white conte on black paper, and he was quite pleased with his final product- a rather gestural drawing full of movement and life.

He left the class, feeling satisfied with his work but still sad all the same. He opened his umbrella and walked out into the gloomy weather, walking slowly across campus to his modern-art history lecture, hoping that the next few days might feel at least a bit calmer.

Tuesday was NOT calm.

The rain had turned into a deluge, and despite his leather waterproof bag, water had seeped into it and leeched across his print work, making a mess out of everything. He got to printmaking 101, unable to hand in his assignment. All his classmates had kept their work over the weekend in the crowded drying racks, where things notoriously went missing. Steve thought he was being smart when he had carted his project over to the next building where he kept a locker, but the rain had made sure otherwise.

At the end of what felt like a very long day, he was walking towards the bus stop, not really caring if he got wet anymore and holding his closed umbrella at his side. He turned around the corner of the student center and a person crashed into his chest. If he had been smaller, like he was in high school, he was sure he would have had the wind knocked out of him.

He steadied the person with a hand and apologized profusely, even though _he _wasn't the one dashing haphazardly around the corners of buildings. He looked down into large, dark brown eyes and wet eyelashes and his stomach did an impressive flip when he saw that it was Tony, of all people.

"Hey Steve! Sorry, big guy, I wasn't looking where I was going. At least you're a nice landing pad."

Steve just held on to Tony's arm, even though he was already steadied, and took in the lovely wet lashes that framed those beautiful eyes. Tony had been protecting himself from the rain with a flimsy, thin hood that barely covered his face, and what looked like a binder held over his head.

Steve was only faintly aware that Tony was still talking.

" - So then I was like 'oh shit!' and I had to run back to the Bettany building to grab it, but since I'm a lazy ass, I didn't bother to bring my umbrella, which I obviously regret now, because, well, holy _crap_ it's raining a lot harder - is this a monsoon or something?"

Steve's brain began to kick in, and he opened up his umbrella to place over their heads as he asked, "Wait, you work here?"

The small circumference of the umbrella forced them to stand so close they were touching, and Steve could feel Tony's warm breath caress his cheek.

"Only temporarily," he paused, considering, "Well, sort of. Not really. I'm trying to pitch a new holographic design program to the Design, Media and Innovation department. I've been giving demonstrations all day to interested buyers, who've been stopping by to see its practical use and features first-hand."

Steve raised his eyebrows, "Wow, who do you work for, a corporation from the future? Holograms? Really?"

Tony looked pleased by his questions, "Actually, I work for myself. I'm an entrepreneur, and I'm kind of a genius."

Steve laughed at Tony's lack of modesty, and then he shocked himself when he blurted out, "I'd like to hear more about it, sometime."

Tony's eyes took on a slightly wicked glint, "How about after Pepper's class, tomorrow?"

Steve was confused, "Pepper's class?"

"Oh, ya, Virginia. Professor Potts. Ugh, sorry, I'm so used to her nickname."

Steve perked up even more, and couldn't stop the grin on his face "You'll be there tomorrow, again?"

"Yeah, three hours of naked me. How're you gonna handle it?" It was as if he had been reading Steve's mind, and Steve couldn't care less.

Tony was talking again, "Anyways, I really do have to get in and out of Bettany before the building closes. I'm sorry I have to dash, but I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," Steve nodded, smiling. He offered his umbrella to Tony, "Take it. I'm soaked through and I wasn't using it anyway."

Tony gratefully accepted the umbrella, letting his hand graze over Steve's as he took it from him.

The smaller man dashed off through the gale, Steve standing there watching him like a hopeless idiot (this was becoming a recurring theme), getting drenched even further.

He made it home, sniffling slightly, and felt like he had just had the best day of his life.


	3. Chapter 3

Hahahaha, oh god, I loved writing this chapter so much! And I actually also love the end result, so it's a double treat!

Oh Steve, you poor baby, you really don't stand a chance 3

* * *

Steve woke up feeling like his head weighed a ton. He groaned as he realized his nose was completely stuffed up and he felt a slight ache in his throat. He looked blearily over at his alarm clock and saw, to his horror, that he must have forgotten to set it the night before in his happy, post-Tony haze. It was ten after eight in the morning, and his first class began in twenty minutes. Of _course_ Wednesday's were his longest days, with classes from 8:30am to 5:00pm and hardly a break in between. He had thursday's off because of it, but it certainly didn't feel worth it today.

He stumbled out of bed, throwing on the plaid work shirt he had discarded in favour of the polo on Monday, and an old pair of faded jeans. He splashed cold water over his face and hastily brushed his teeth, knowing he didn't have time for anything else if he was going to catch the late bus in less than ten minutes.

He just barely made it to the bus stop on time, haphazardly shoving papers and a textbook into his bag as he loaded himself onto the bus with all the other sleepy-looking students.

* * *

Wednesday dragged on.

At least Steve began to feel a little better as the day got warmer and sunnier, and he was able to stop at the campus coffee shop to grab a mug of tea and a small sandwich before his drawing class at 2:00pm.

Drawing...

DRAWING.

_TONY._

Steve's stomach did a loop-de-loop and he almost spilt hot tea over himself as yesterday's conversation with Tony replayed in his mind. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it last night, how had he not thought about it once today?!

And oh God, he must look _terrible_. With a mere ten minutes to cross campus to his class, he had no time to make himself presentable. He finished off the last few bites of his sandwich and took his tea with him as he walked across campus, cursing his luck.

He made it to class with only moments to spare. His classmates were already settling down on their benches, easels set up with paper at the ready. He floundered in the doorway, feeling awkward, but his Professor spotted him, "Ah, Mr. Rogers. Typically I admonish students for being late, but given your track record, I'm going to assume it won't happen again?"

A blush rose up from his neck as everyone swiveled around to see the latecomer. He kept his eyes above them and his gaze landed on Tony, who was giving him a huge, toothy grin and a rather dramatic wave with both hands. Steve was actually rather glad his peers hadn't seen that.

He pried his eyes off of Tony, horrified to feel a grin now forming on his own face - he probably looked like he was mocking the Professor with his expression. He quickly resumed the guilty look on his face and made to apologize as he shuffled into the room. "I'm sorry Miss Potts. It won't happen again.' At the end of his statement he gave a huge, rather violent sneeze that had him stopping in his tracks right behind Clint, who flinched and bellowed, "Oi!"

Steve was now beet red, hating that he was making a scene and disrupting the class. In an incredibly merciful move, Tony hastily de-robbed and marched up onto the platform, standing proudly for all to see. He spoke loudly, making sure all the attention was on him, "Naked man here. Waiting to be ogled-at and drawn please."

Miss Potts had her face in her hands, but Steve couldn't be any more grateful for the shift in focus.

He hastily set up his equipment in the corner of the classroom, and then watched, transfixed, as Tony sprawled his naked form over a covered collection of ottomans and padded benches. He positioned himself almost wantonly, his head perched moderately lower than the rest of his body, his back subtly arched causing his ribcage to protrude ever so slightly. One leg was stretched out languidly, while the other was bent at the knee and splayed open. If Steve hadn't been so transfixed by the heavenly vision in front of him, he would have appreciated how interesting the pose was, and how it would be quite fun to draw.

He let his eyes travel slowly over Tony's body, appreciating the sheer beauty of his form, before looking at his face, only to see Tony staring intently back. And if Steve wasn't aroused before, he certainly was now. Tony was looking at him like he was the only other person in the room, the only person who really mattered. His gaze was hypnotizing and Steve couldn't look away. He vaguely heard his Professor's voice, dulled over the heartbeat pounding in his ears. He should probably be listening to those instructions. Oh well.

He began to draw, almost in a trance. And he must have been, for Miss Potts was already telling them all to finish up any last details of their drawings before they would be critiquing their work. He couldn't have been drawing for more than twenty minutes...but when he looked at the clock, he saw that nearly two hours had gone by since the start of class.

He looked down at his work. Admittedly, he hadn't been paying much attention to maintaining a perfect realism, he had just let the drawing take him where it wanted. It was actually quite a nice drawing. Something he could actually see framing. In his bedroom, maybe.

Yes, definitely in his bedroom.

It was only when he saw his work amongst all the others that he saw how startlingly different it was from the rest. The faceless figures on the other drawings didn't have much life to them at all. Not that they weren't well drawn, they just didn't even come close to representing how beautiful and perfect Tony's body was...

And his drawing...

Oh god, his drawing was beginning to look almost purposefully eroticized. His strokes were much bolder and darker, while his shading countered the exuberance of the lines with a very subtle gradation of shades. Did he really see Tony that differently from his classmates?

Clint was standing next to him, and he gave a low whistle, giving Steve a look like he was in for it.

The critique began, and he silently prayed that everyone would ignore his drawing, that the blatantly obvious, though metaphorical, elephant in the room (or on the wall) would be overlooked.

And of course, Natasha, who was without a doubt the most outspoken student in the class, started out the critique by pointing directly at his drawing and saying, "I like this one."

Steve tried to hide himself in the crowd of students, hoping that no one other than Clint had seen who the creator of that particular piece was. This was rather difficult to do, as Steve was at least a foot taller than the rest of the class. Steve's face grew progressively hotter at Natasha continued to speak:

"It's incredibly sexual. It's almost as if the artist has captured the subject in the throws of passion. Like we are voyeurs, looking at a person during a very private and intimate moment. But it still maintains a clear integrity as a piece of art - it's just a slightly different approach to drawing the human form than we usually see in an art class. It's unconventional. I like it."

There was a murmur of agreement around the class. Then, much to Steve's abject horror, more students began to point out the subtle ways in which his drawing made the subject look so suggestive. How the pressure of his conte grew heavier around the figure's erogenous zones, how the eye's were focused and almost glittering in their intensity. They pointed out things Steve had no idea he had even done.

He unwittingly looked away from the wall, and his eyes could only travel to the most obvious and pleasing part of the room to where Tony was standing. The other man must have felt Steve's gaze on him, because he was suddenly looking away from Steve's drawing and staring right at him, much like he had during the last two hours. Except now...now his face was also flushed. And his eyes were darker. He was looking at Steve like he wanted to devour him.

Clint was right. Steve was in so much trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve had waited until most of his classmates had shuffled slowly from the room before he had the courage to surreptitiously take down his drawing from the wall, sliding it quickly into his art folder. He turned around, hoping no one had seen him, only to bump into someone. This was turning into a bad habit.

He hastily apologized to the girl, not someone he recognized from his class thankfully, and made to walk away. But the girl, who had dark hair and wore glasses, had other ideas. She spoke loudly, "Hey blondie, I don't know what you're thinking, but you can't just treat a girl like that and then walk away."

Steve looked down at her devious grin, and then around the class, where the remaining student's were now looking over at them with curious expressions. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, too perplexed and embarrassed to form anything coherent, before someone was coming to his rescue _again._

"Darcy!"

And rushing over to them, looking uncharacteristically and fiercely angry for someone so petite, was the girl with the arm brace Steve had helped the other day.

"I told you to wait outside!"

Darcy replied, calmly, "Yeah, that was _before_ I knew you were drawing sexy nude models _and _you had sexy blond classmates. Way to keep me posted, bro."

"Have you been here this whole time!?"

"I may have popped my head in an hour or two ago. It's not like anyone noticed."

"Oh my God, you are unbelievable! Why do I put up with you!?" She grabbed Darcy by the wrist and practically dragged her out of the classroom. Just before the door was slammed shut, Darcy poked her head back into the class, "Hey blondie! Check your folder!"

Steve looked down to see a small post-it note attached to his art folder, a number scribbled down above what looked like "Call me :)"

Before he had even a chance to come to grips with what had just happened, the door was opening again, and a dressed, very NOT naked Tony was walking back into the classroom. He spotted Steve, jogged over to him and looked down at the post-it Steve was still staring at perplexedly.

He gave Steve an amused grin, "What, like you've never gotten a number before?"

Steve could only shake his head.

Tony looked appalled, "What? You? _You. You_ have never gotten...just, _what?"_

Steve scratched his neck, feeling uncomfortable, "Well, I wasn't very fit before I was in the army, and then being oversea's doesn't really allow for many dating opportunities." He gave a small grin, "And then when I came back, I kept to myself until I decided to come here."

Tony shook his head, still disbelieving, "Well, I better take you on one hell of a date, then."

Steve's stomach did a little dance and he gave Tony what was probably a huge, goofy grin, but he couldn't stop himself. He was going on a date with Tony, for pete's sake, he was allowed.

He gave a dry cough, his throat reminding him that he was catching a cold. "Actually, I was thinking of taking you to my favourite place on campus. You feeling hungry?"

Tony shrugged, "I could eat."

So they made their way across campus to a building that held a small cafeteria. Tony eye'd the place, "You're taking me to a Subway?"

Steve chuckled. Tony did have a point, the place was bustling with students, small crowds forming in front of the big chain fast-food restaurants. But he led Tony through the crowds and around the corner into a more secluded dining area. It had the same, cheap plastic seating, but it was far less crowded, and it smelled absolutely divine. A small sign above a long counter read "Mama's Kitchen."

Floor to ceiling window's looked out across the student green, where people were scattered along the grass, chatting or working on schoolwork. Large maple trees lined the green, their leaves beginning to change with the coming of autumn.

Steve pointed to a set of comfy looking leather chairs by the window "I like to sit over there and sketch. That's how I found this place. Turns out the food is amazing too."

Tony inhaled deeply, his stomach grumbling, making itself known after a day without food, "It certainly smells like it."

Steve grinned and ushered him over to the counter, where the food was laid out cafeteria-style. "Sorry it's not a nice restaurant or something, but the food more than makes up for it."

An adorably wrinkled old woman appeared behind the counter, "Hi Stevie. What can I get for you today?"

Tony thought it was adorable that Steve came here often enough for her to call him that.

Steve sniffled slightly, "I think I'll stick with the Minestrone. I'm feeling a little under the weather." He turned to Tony "If you want a recommendation, her Chicken a La Roma is always delicious."

She gave Tony a wrinkly smile, "And I've just made a fresh batch as well."

"Well it's decided then. One Chicken a La...thingy, please!"

Steve chuckled, "go grab us seats okay?"

Tony turned around and scanned the area. There was a set of bar-style seating and a flat screen TV on the back wall. Tony would usually gravitate towards that area for a first date; if the date was awful, at least he had the TV and some much-needed booze on hand to distract himself. But for this, he wanted all of Steve's attention, just like he had during the drawing class. He decided on a corner booth that looked out on the window above their seats; nice and intimate.

Steve came over a minute later, the flimsy plastic tray burdened with what looked like ten pounds of food. He set it down on the table with a distinct thud. "What would you like to drink?"

But Tony was thoroughly distracted by the tantalizing sight and smell in front of him. His plate of chicken was piled high on top of a generous helping of herbed linguini, and what smelled like parmesan cheese was melting almost obscenely over the top. Without even thinking, he already had a large forkful of hot food in his mouth, completely in heaven.

Steve appeared with drinks and sat down across from him, their knees knocking ever so slightly. Tony turned slightly red, realizing he had just completely ignored Steve in favour of the food. And yet, he was already placing another forkful of chicken in his mouth, seemingly unable to resist.

Steve could only smile at that, "It's amazing, isn't it?"

Tony only gave a low, drawn-out moan in reply, his mouth full of food.

"I got some draft pop and water, you can have whichever one you want," Steve offered courteously.

They ate almost in complete silence, the food too delicious to make intelligent conversation.

Once Tony had somehow managed to demolish the gargantuan heap of food in front of him, he leaned back lazily in his seat and groaned, his hand resting over his distended stomach. He was beginning to think he had been rendered incapable of speech. He looked up at Steve, only to realize that the man had probably been finished his soup for a while, and had been watching him in the meantime. He had a fond expression on his face, and unless Tony was completely imagining things, he could see a spark of arousal in Steve's gaze as well.

It seemed like a lot of effort to drag his foot up Steve's shin, but he did anyway, wanting to see his reaction.

And apparently Steve had no concept of foot-flirting, because he was shifting back in his seat and letting a soft apology escape from his lips, "I sometimes forget how tall I am."

Tony barely managed to not roll his eyes, and decided to do it again. This time he leaned forward and slid his foot more slowly and purposefully up Steve's leg, looking in his eye the entire time. "I was doing it on purpose. I happen to like how tall you are," he all but purred.

Steve's face went predictably red and he shifted in his seat, practically squirming. "Oh" he said quietly, and he looked almost bashful at Tony's attention. Oh good God, the man was adorable. If the room was darker, Tony would have half a mind to crawl under the table and show Steve just how adorable he thought he was. Granted, Steve's reaction made Tony want to play it on the safe side, so as not to spook the other man with his, er... rather distinct brand of forwardness.

Steve gave another cough, turning his face into his elbow, and then gave a sniff. "Sorry. Of all the day's to be sick, it had to be today."

Tony's mind suddenly connected the dots for him. Steve had lent him his umbrella yesterday. It had been cold, and he must have had to wait for the bus to take him home. He must have spent a long time in his drenched clothing. Tony swallowed against the rush of affection he felt toward Steve, and he let himself brush his fingers over the hand Steve had on the table. "Hey, it's not like this will be our only date. I'm hoping this will be the first of many."

Steve turned his hand palm up, loosely grasping Tony's hand in his. "I'd like that, a lot."

Tony swallowed heavily again. Ugh, the man was going to be the death of him.


	5. Chapter 5

I'd like it on the record that cafeteria food CAN be delicious, and it was fully responsible for the freshman fifteen I put on in my first year lol. Granted, my diet is 99% vegetarian and borderline vegan, so when I go all out and get a giant plate of cheesy-fattening goodness, it probably tastes a lot better to me.

AND OH MY GOD I WAS SO KIDDING MYSELF WHEN I THOUGHT THIS STORY WOULD ONLY BE FIVE CHAPTERS.

* * *

They had decided to forgo dessert, both of them too stuffed to even consider another mouthful of food. But they stayed seated as the light outside grew dimmer and dimmer, enjoying one another's company and conversation.

Steve learned that Tony was twenty-eight, four years older than himself, and was an entrepreneurial engineer trying to make it big. He had gone to college when he was only sixteen, two years ahead of his peers, and had dropped out two years later, feeling like he had gleaned everything he had wanted in a post-secondary education, and deciding he was better off working and learning on his own terms. He had spent the following nine years creating what sounded like futuristic, highly-intelligent and creative technology on a grant that had now run out of money. He was now looking to sell his work to universities and corporations, but the expense of his services and technology had put a lot of buyers off. He was hoping for more luck at this school, where innovation and creativity were valued above everything else.

And much to Steve's relief, he found out that Tony and Miss Potts had met in college and now maintained a close friendship. Tony gabbed away as Steve listened, amused, "So we made the horrible decision to be apartment-buddies after I left school and I drove her crazy. In my defense, I had warned her that this would happen." Steve chuckled at that, and Tony continued, "At that point I was still pretty young, about nineteen I think. I was lamenting the fact that I had never actually been in a real relationship and Pepper's long-time boyfriend had just dumped her. I thought it was the perfect opportunity to seduce her, so I began to do the stupidest things to get her attention. After a couple of weeks with no reaction, I started to walk around in the buff hoping she would be enticed by what she saw." He snorted at that, and Steve couldn't help thinking that Tony's ploy would have easily worked on him.

"And then one night I thought it would be a good idea to wait in her bed and make my move when she came home from her night class. Ohhhh, it ended so badly, I can still feel the pain."

Steve snorted, "do I want to ask what happened?"

Tony shivered dramatically, "let's just say that it was a few months before I could look at her without my balls jumping back up into my body."

* * *

Steve found himself relaxed and willing to be open with Tony, or at least more open than he was with most people. He told him about his awful years at high school and going through puberty what felt like years after everyone else. He had been scrawny and picked on for three of his four years, before he set his eyes on the Reserves and decided to put all of his energy into getting fit. After graduating high school, he had been accepted into the Basic Training program, and his resolve and devotion had caught the eye of Colonel Philips, who had helped him transfer swiftly into the Regular Forces. Before being dispatched into Iraq, he had met James Barnes, who quickly became his best friend. Iraq hadn't seemed so bad when you were working alongside your best friend.

Steve stopped abruptly, mid-story, and took a long drink of water, avoiding Tony's eyes.

"And what made you come here?"

Steve, thankful for the segue, put his water down and began again, "I've always loved drawing. I never really thought of it as a viable option for school, but it's always had a therapeutic effect on me. I chose this school because it actually offers a scholarship to veterans in my position." He shifted slightly in his seat, "I needed a change of scenery as well. Something to get my mind off the war." He looked up at Tony, hoping he wasn't making the other man uncomfortable. But Tony was giving him an intense look, not one of pity or discomfort. He seemed absorbed by what Steve had to say, and he looked like he wanted to know more.

Tony's eyes suddenly snapped to a spot just beyond Steve's shoulder and he whipped around, suddenly tense. But it was only Geraldine, who was shuffling over to their table with a take-out container on hand. She handed it to Tony, "I had some leftovers from the last batch of chicken, that I packed up for you. I saw how much you enjoyed it."

Tony beamed at her, "It was the best meal I've had in a long time. Thanks, doll." He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. She gave a wheezy cackle and slapped at Tony's arm playfully. "I wish I could keep you here longer, but the cleaners will be here any minute and they've already locked the doors."

Steve looked at his wristwatch, alarmed to see that it was after nine. They had been there for almost four hours! He immediately stood up and began to apologize, hastily placing their dishes on the tray and retrieving his bag from under the table.

She patted his arm, "Oh don't worry yourself, dear, Just see yourself home safely." She leaned in towards Steve and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper "And bring him back okay? He needs a good fattening up!" She winked at him and hobbled away, leaving Steve with a grin.

They made their way back across campus, the cool air making Steve shiver, and it wasn't until they were within viewing distance of the student bus terminal that he realized that the buses had stopped over an hour ago. But Tony began to walk the other direction, linking his arm with Steve's, who was helpless not to follow.

Tony grinned up at him, "I can't wait to show you my baby." Steve had a moment to feel baffled before Tony was digging a key chain out of his pocket and pressing a button to remotely signal to his car. They approached the private parking lot, Tony's car the only one left in the space.

"Is that..?"

"Metallic crimson with gold rims? Yeah." Tony sighed, sounding rapturous.

Steve smoothed his hand appreciatively along the top of the sports car, stepping back when the scissor doors opened automatically.

Tony spoke next to him, "God, she's sexy. I'll never get tired of looking at her. I love the way she opens up for me." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Steve then slid elegantly into the driver's seat.

They drove smoothly out of the parking lot, Steve directing him to his downtown apartment, pulling up outside the old three-story building ten minutes later.

Tony leaned into his space, eyeing the building, and Steve couldn't help but to breath in Tony's warm scent mixed with a subtle tang of aftershave. Tony leaned back into his seat, giving him a devilish grin. "Now I know where you live. Consider yourself warned."

At that moment, Steve wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss Tony, but his (stupid) cold held him back. He swallowed hard, and fumbled for the seat belt. Tony leaned across him again, opening the passenger door. Steve felt distinctly light-headed, and he had to close his eyes and take a long, deep breath.

Tony's voice spoke right in front of him, warm air playing across his face, "God, I want to kiss you."

Steve's body chose that moment to react to the catch in his throat, and he used his arm to push Tony away before coughing a fit into his elbow. He waited for the spasm of his throat muscles to subside before looking bashfully over a Tony. "Sorry. A bit of a mood killer, huh?"

Tony looked disappointed, but he quickly covered up the expression with a grin. "Something to look forward to, I guess."

Steve couldn't look away from Tony's lips, licking his own. "Definitely." He ducked out from his low seat and gave a small stretch on the sidewalk, before leaning back down to say goodbye.

"We need to do this again, like, really soon," Tony said, and Steve nodded vehemently.

He stood back and listened to the purr of the car's engine as it took off, watching the end of the street long after it had turned the corner.

* * *

If anyone's interested, I think Tony's car would look something like this (with gold rims on the wheels of course): alfa-romeo/8c/2009/alfa-romeo-8c-competizione


	6. Chapter 6

Ack! Sorry for the wait- classes took over life for a bit there. Good news is, you have an update, and I have to admit, I really love this chapter.

* * *

Steve groaned and glared angrily at the rays of sunlight peeking through his blinds. He let out a hacking cough and collapsed back into bed, groaning again for good measure. He heard a whine come from the end of his bed where his dog was curled into the blankets and opened one bleary eye to look at the clock. It was almost noon!

He sat bolt upright, immediately regretting it when his sinuses protested. Steve patted his golden on the head "Sorry buddy, I've been ignoring you." He received a soft lick to his palm in response.

He downed a couple of advil with a long drink of water and got changed into some old sweats before heading out into the chilly morning, dog in tow. The fresh air helped to clear his head but he felt his grudge against the sun was completely warranted for the time being.

Steve was just settling down on his old, squashy couch, blanket around his shoulders and tea in hand, when the buzzer for his apartment went off. His dog barked at the unfamiliar noise and sat up from his spot on the floor, looking at his owner with his head tilted quizzically.

"I wonder who it is?" Steve muttered, padding over to the intercom he had so rarely used.

He pressed the button, "Can I help you?"

A familiar drawl sounded on the other end, "Let me in, would ya? It's freezing out here, jeeze."

Steve grinned from ear to ear, pressing the button to allow access to the building. Then he looked around, realizing the state of his apartment, not to mention the ratty old sweater he was wearing which held an embarrassing number of holes. He quickly tore it off, his hair in disarray, and tossed it into his bedroom without caring where it landed. He dashed across the room to the couch in front of his small television, where he had paused 'The Breakfast Club' only a few minutes into the film, thanking God he hadn't decided on his guilty pleasure 'Dirty Dancing' instead.

He swept the mess of kleenexes into a garbage bin and ran over to the kitchen to wash his hands, his dog excitedly following his heels, tail wagging frantically.

"Easy, boy," Steve patted him on the head and told him to stay before throwing on a baseball shirt just as a chorus of knocks sounded on the door. His dog was at his heels again, too excited to stay still, trying to nose his way in front of Steve to get to the door first. "Hey, hey, easy now," He held his collar steady before opening the door.

He was greeted with the very pleasing sight of Tony, who looked outrageously handsome in a pair of red-tinted glasses and a sleek jacket, his hair an elegantly styled mess.

Tony looked him up and down, "Hey gorgeous." He gave Steve a peck on the cheek that had him totally flustered, while Tony squeezed by him into the apartment.

He set a bag down on the nearest surface and knelt on the ground, his hand out, "Well, who's this guy? I didn't know you had a dog."

"Had him for about a year now. His name's Thor." He let go of the collar, his whining dog leaping joyously forward to plant wet kisses all over Tony's face, who laughed and put his hands out, trying to stop the onslaught of slobber.

Steve scratched the back of his head, "Sorry, Tony, he's not usually this...friendly with people he doesn't know."

But Tony was paying no attention, cooing at the dog, "Who's a handsome dog? You are! Yes you are!" Thor's tail was thunking into the door with every excited wag of his tail, basking in the attention from this new, friendly stranger.

Tony looked up at him, a grin on his face "No offense Steve, but 'Thor'? What kind of a dog name is that?"

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, I know, I thought the same thing when I got him. He was already used to the name, and it kind of suits him, oddly enough."

Tony stood up, brushing off his pants, "Oh, did you adopt him, then?"

Steve nodded, "I guess you could say that," and he followed Tony to his small kitchenette.

The other man was opening the bag he had carried in, and a delicious scent filled the space. "I figured that cold would still be pestering you, so I made a stop on the way over. No minestrone today, but I got you some good old chicken noodle and some potato leek." He eyed Steve's face, misreading his surprised expression, and he kept talking, "Yeah, you probably don't feel much like the second one right now, it's Geraldine's fault that I got it, really. She said there was bacon in it. And who can resist bacon? I certainly can't. Do you like bacon? Because if you don't, I don't know if this 'thing' we have going is gonna work out. It's a real deal-breaker, Steve."

Steve brushed behind Tony, and leaned over his shoulder, shushing him quietly, his mouth close to the other man's ear. "Thanks, Tony. That was really thoughtful of you." He saw Tony's throat bob accompanied by a faint rise in colour on his cheeks, and Steve felt a small thrill of satisfaction that he could get Tony riled up with hardly any effort on his part. Maybe they were playing on equal ground after all.

Tony leaned back into Steve's touch briefly before a small whine sounded at their feet. They looked down to see Thor, licking his jowls and giving them pathetically huge begging eyes. Steve sighed and walked around the counter to pick a squeaky toy off the ground. "C'mon, Thor. C'mon buddy. Don't you want your hammer? Come and get it!"

Thor gave a half whine, half bark of assent and jumped to his feet, his paws slipping and sliding across the linoleum floor before he found the momentum to run after Steve and his precious toy. Steve stood by a doggy bed in the corner, waving the hammer tauntingly above his dog, who was jumping, trying to grab the toy that was so aggravatingly out of reach. Steve finally let Thor snag it, before he played a short game of tug of war, letting the dog win when he began to growl. Thor gave the toy a few good squeaks with his jaw before he plonked down on his bed, curling protectively around the hammer with his back facing the room.

Steve chuckled and walked back over to the kitchenette, "He'll probably be resentful of me for the rest of the day, but at least he'll be quiet now."

Tony's eyes were dancing with laughter, "I think I might be in love with your dog, Steve."

Steve grinned, 'it's kind of hard not to be."

Tony opened his mouth to say something else, but then he saw the paused TV screen over Steve's shoulder and exclaimed: "No way, the Brat Pack?! You're a John Hughes fan, aren't you?" He gave Steve a devilish grin before clapping his hands together, "Okay, we're totally doing this." He grabbed a container of soup and then proceeded to make himself comfortable on Steve's couch, patting the space beside him. And how could Steve possibly resist that?

He picked up two spoons and his chicken noodle soup before settling down next to Tony, their thighs brushing comfortably.

Steve tried to pay attention to the movie, he really did, but just having the other man so close was thoroughly distracting. Every brush of his leg against Tony's felt electric, and the man smelled _incredible._ It should be illegal to smell that good. It didn't help that Tony, who had now finished his soup, placed his arm over the back of the couch behind Steve's head, seeming perfectly at ease with their proximity while Steve reveled at being so close to the other man. And even though they weren't actually touching, Steve could feel the heat and electricity radiating off of Tony, setting his nerve-endings on fire. He gave a small, involuntary shudder and Tony, mistaking it for Steve being cold, procured the blanket Steve had been using earlier for the same purpose. Tony carefully wrapped it around them before moving up against him, pressing comfortably into Steve's shoulder as though they did this every day.

How could Tony be so calm and casual? They were cuddling, for pete's sake! It was all Steve could do to keep his hammering heart from drowning out the movie.

So, while the Breakfast Club snuck around their high school and narrowly avoided Principal Vernon at every turn, Steve remained distracted by Tony's close presence, taking it in as though it were a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

And all too soon the movie was over. Tony was humming the lyrics to "Don't you forget about me" under his breath, probably unconsciously, and never before had Steve felt so overpowered by the need to savagely cuddle and squeeze something into a puddle of liquid cuteness. I was an alarming thought.

Tony rubbed the side of his face slightly on Steve's shoulder and mumbled, "mmm, I don't feel like moving."

Steve responded by wrapping his arm securely around Tony, holding him tight against his side, and Tony hummed his approval.

Sometime during the movie, Thor had sauntered over to the couch, tail low and head down as though asking for their forgiveness for his earlier display. Currently, he was curled beside Tony's feet, but he looked up, ears perking when Steve turned off the TV, leaving the apartment in silence.

Tony rubbed one of his socked feet on Thor's side and smiled. "I always wanted a dog growing up. How'd you get him?"

Steve stared at his dog, suddenly stupidly envious of the caresses he was receiving. He cleared his throat, "He was uh...he was donated to me. He was trained to be a service dog, but when he didn't pass the test, he was donated to the Veterans group I'm a member of and he instantly took to me."

Tony gazed up at him from where he was leaning against Steve's side, "I don't blame him."

Time seemed to freeze as they looked at one another, Tony's vision flicking between Steve's eyes and his lips. Steve was sure a steady blush was creeping its was across his entire body, and his mouth suddenly felt dry and numb.

Tony finally broke their eye contact, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically and exclaiming "Fuck it! I've had my flu shot."

And he practically dived onto Steve, sealing their lips together in a searing kiss. Steve immediately sought out the other man's warmth, hugging their bodies tightly together until he had a lapful of Tony, who gave a muffled moan of approval and practically melted into him. Tony's fingers were at the base of Steve's skull, alternately massaging and running through the hair on his nape, as he deepened the kiss and Steve lost himself to the sensations. He became almost painfully aroused embarrassingly fast, but if the hard heat pressing into his hip was anything to go by, Tony was in a similar state. Steve let his hands roam over Tony's back, fingers seeking out the grooves of bone and muscle he had been covetously drawing only a day earlier.

But it was that thought that brought his hands to a halt, and had him leaning back into the couch, breathing out hotly over Tony's mouth. "God," he had to swallow to stop his voice from wavering, "God, Tony. I want you." He placed his palm tenderly over Tony's cheek and looked the man in his darkened, lust-blown eyes. "I want you so badly...but," he swallowed again, hating himself a little bit, "we're going a little too fast for me. I'm sorry."

Tony huffed out a small chuckle, waving off his apology, "I did kind of maul your face." He guiltily wiped a bit of wayward saliva off of Steve's chin with his sleeve and looked into his eyes, more serious. "It's okay though. I didn't really take you for a guy that would speed things along. You're more of a take-things-slow kinda guy. "

Steve sighed. "Right now, I'm wishing I wasn't that guy."

Tony grinned, "Well, that guy can still kiss me, right? Kissing isn't going to fast is it?"

Steve pretended to think about it, "I think he could be coerced."

Tony leaned in, kissing him softly, breathing slowly out of his nose. Then he murmured against Steve's lips, "And what would he say to a little of this?" Tony demonstrated with a slow swipe of his tongue against Steve's mouth.

Steve had a harder time pretending to think about that one.


End file.
